


I'm here... now. I'm not leaving

by AngelsSelene



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bipolar Disorder, Clip 3, Comfort/Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, No Beta, Robbe IJzermans - Freeform, Robbe does his best, Robbe too, SKAM Season 3, Sad Sander, Sander Driesen - Freeform, Self-Reflection, We love a supportive boyfriend, s03e10, sander deserves the world, skam belgium - Freeform, skam remake, wtfock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21848575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelsSelene/pseuds/AngelsSelene
Summary: Robbe takes care of Sander after he broke down in his arms when he finds him in that room filled with pictures of Robbe.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Kudos: 227





	I'm here... now. I'm not leaving

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, it's been awhile since i wrote anything. This is my first fic for wtfock and i hope i did Robbe and Sander justice. I'm still working on getting their characters just right so please don't judge too harshly. This was written before i watched yesterday's clips (the one where Robbe woke up for an exam and the one where he spent some time with the boy squad). 
> 
> Uhm... so yea. Hope you like it. 
> 
> Comment - Kudos - Tweet me @Lady__Hel etc etc
> 
> xoxo

Robbe stared at the boy in his arms. Sander’s breaths deepened and evened out. He had fallen asleep. In an attempt to get comfortable, Robbe tried to shrug his backpack off only to realise that even in his sleep Sander kept such a tight hold on his jacket. Shaking his head, Robbe looked around before trying to make them more comfortable so that he could hold his… maybe boyfriend tightly while he slept in peace. Scooting backwards awkwardly, he finally leaned against a wall. Slowly tugging his jacket out of Sander’s fist, he shrugged off his bag and jacket. Letting him lean his head against his shoulder, he draped his jacket around the boy curled up in his arms and settled down. Alternating between pressing kisses onto the top of Sander’s head and leaning his head back so that he could hold back his tears, Robbe berated himself. 

He knew that mental illnesses did not mean that the person cared less. He knew that. He knew that sometimes they needed a little extra; that sometimes extra was not enough - that they might go overboard. He knew that they felt a lot more… or to be accurate, he knew they felt intensely (maybe even more intense than the supposed “normal” people). He should not have left. He should not have listened to her. He knew that; so  _ why did he _ ? 

There was really no answer to that. All he could hope for now was that Sander was willing to take another chance at love with him; with the boy who broke his heart at least twice now. He didn’t know what he would do if Sander said no, said that he couldn’t trust him or that he had been hurt enough and that he didn’t want to try again. 

What would he do then? 

Thoughts clouding his mind, Robbe tightened his arms around Sander who was still deeply asleep. The uncertainty was killing him. But at the same time, the fact that Sander was asleep meant that he would not be able to reject him... yet. If all he got was this last intimate moment with him, he was going to take it and make sure that the last memory Sander had of him was him protecting him from his nightmares and fears for at least a couple of hours of peaceful rest. 

Tears pooled in his eyes again and Robbe had to lean his head back and stare out the window in hopes that his tears would not fall on the sensitive boy and wake him. 

Hours passed and the sun had set. Robbe wanted to move. His limbs were numb from sitting in the same position for so long and he was pretty sure that Sander’s school was already locked up for the day. He did not know if he should wake him up and try to get him to a comfortable bed or… 

“Sander…” he whispered, finally moving his arms from around him. Stretching them above his head, he called out again as Sander shifted and curled into himself tighter. “Sander, wake up. Come on.” 

Slowly, Sander stirred. His brows furrowed as though he did not want to open his eyes and find out that Robbe was just a figment of his imagination. His hands clutched at Robbe’s jacket, unwilling to let go.  _ Please be here. _ He squeezed his eyes tighter.  _ Please be real. _ Somehow Robbe understood what he needed. Taking his hands in his, he held on tight. 

“I’m right here Sander. Come, open your eyes. Come on. Lets move to my room, yea? We can cuddle comfortably in bed.”

Sander’s eyes fluttered open slowly, cautiously. The faint moonlight shining through the window made his hair and eyes look like they were glowing. Brushing a stray strand of blond hair away from his brown eyes that were watching him with so much vulnerability, Robbe pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead.

“Hey…” a soft smile graced Robbe’s tired face. He was completely captivated by the utter beauty of the boy in front of him that all his previous thoughts and worries dissipated.

“You’re still here.”

Robbe flinched slightly. He nodded. Sander looked around, noticing that they were still in that room that he had sequestered himself in to try and get through his meltdown. Robbe had found him. He had seen him at his lowest and he was still here. He sat up, unwillingly moving away from his love. Robbe watched Sander carefully as he stood to let the blood flow through his numb legs. 

“Sander?”

Sander looked up at him. He held Robbe’s jacket around him tighter. Robbe looked down at the unusually awkward boy. He understood that sometimes it takes awhile for him to come back after… 

“Do you want to go back to the flat with me? We can stay in the room. No one will disturb us I promise. We can talk later, once you feel like talking. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Sander. Is that something you would like to do?” Robbe knelt to Sander as he helped him put his hands through the sleeves of his jacket. 

As soon as Sander nodded, Robbe grabbed their bags. Packing up some of Sander’s things, he turned to ask him if his drawings will be safe if they were left here. When he nodded in reply, Robbe smiled and took his hand in his. Interlacing their fingers Robbe pulled him out of the room, letting go only to close the room door behind him. 

“Robbe…” Sander called out softly before trailing off. Robbe turned to face him. “You don’t have to do this…”

Robbe shifted Sander’s bag onto his shoulder before cupping Sander’s face. Caressing his soft skin, he replied, “I know. But I want to.”

Unable to vocalise the thoughts in his head and unwilling to summon the energy (that he doesn’t have) to try and argue with Robbe, Sander turned his gaze to his hand, still held tightly in Robbe’s much smaller hand, and gave it a squeeze. Moving his hand so that he could tip Sander’s head back, Robbe stared into his eyes. 

“I’m here… now. I’m not leaving, Sander.”


End file.
